


your body's a message (send my regards to hell)

by HermioneGirl96



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, Missing Scene, POV Third Person, Past Tense, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-14
Updated: 2019-09-14
Packaged: 2020-10-18 17:48:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20643209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HermioneGirl96/pseuds/HermioneGirl96
Summary: A little missing scene where Aziraphale and Crowley figure out the prophecy about choosing faces.





	your body's a message (send my regards to hell)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [OrSaiKellieLonore](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrSaiKellieLonore/gifts).

The paper read, in Agnes’s distinctive script, “When all is fated and all is done, ye must choose your faces wisely, for soon enough ye will be playing with fire.”

“What does it mean?” Crowley muttered. 

“‘When all is fated—’” Aziraphale started to read aloud. 

Crowley rolled his eyes and sighed. “I know how to _read_, Angel.” 

“Yes, well, I wasn’t sure you remembered that the Ss look like Fs,” said Aziraphale. 

Crowley fixed Aziraphale with a withering stare over the top of his sunglasses. “I have been alive for just as long as you have. I want to know what it _means_, not what it says.” 

“Oh,” said Aziraphale, adjusting how he was sitting. “Well. In that case. All certainly seems to be fated and done. But how do we choose our—”

His eyes met Crowley’s and they both said, “Oh,” at exactly the same time. 

“They’ll discorporate you with holy water,” said Aziraphale. “It’ll just be a nice bath for me.” Then his eyebrows cinched together in concern. “Will you be immune to what heaven throws at you, though? You were an angel once.”

“If you think I haven’t picked up a few immunities over the millenia, you truly can’t have been paying attention,” said Crowley. 

“I’ve been paying attention,” said Aziraphale, very quietly. 

“Bless it, Angel, you can’t just say that _now_,” griped Crowley. 

Aziraphale looked wounded and scooted away from Crowley. 

Crowley sighed. “I didn’t mean it like that, Angel. Just, we have a job to do, yeah? We can do . . . that, later.” 

Aziraphale’s face lit up. “We can?”

Crowley gave him a small smile. “We don’t have sides anymore, remember?”

Aziraphale cleared his throat. “Right.” Then he stuck out a hand toward Crowley. “Shall we?”

Now Crowley grinned wickedly. “Send my regards to hell.”


End file.
